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We create
And recreate
Ourselves
Every single day

And sometimes
Just sometimes
The heart of us
The good in us
Lingers

Like that late rose
Hanging for dear life
Onto that fragile vine

When all the other
Roses have fallen
To grace the lavender
Patiently waiting below
Creating something new
A sudden floral sculpture
That silently moves
With a breeze
Just on the edge
Of cold, a foretelling
Of the magic to come

But that happens later
Today a rose refuses
To stop blossoming
And hopes she’ll be
Remembered
For her beauty
Even when time
And circumstance
Cause her to wither
And eventually die

But not today
Today in this
Too brief moment
She is merely
A lingering rose
Trying so hard
To be beautiful

Hanging on to life
And the slight chance
She’ll catch your eye
And illicit
The smallest sigh

 

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